Hi! I'm just getting started in writing, and I'm posting some of my experiments and other short stories here. Offline, I'm working on building my "rejection slip collection" with other stories.

Please enjoy the short stories and writing experiments I've posted here. I always enjoy constructive criticism.

I'm very interested in improving my abilities as an author, and I like to experiment with different genres and story ideas when I write. A lot of what I'll be posting here will be somewhat unfinished, I figure I'd rather post and learn what I can than have something never get written because I fret too much about how it will turn out.

Thanks for coming!

06 September 2014

What Would You Do With a Porcupine?

This had not been a very good idea, Bob reflected. Taking up a dare, in the first place, had been a bad idea. Now, Bob felt trapped. Since he really was trapped, in a small, smelly, burning shed, it didn't help his self-confidence. He stood amidst the flames, the heat growing more intense with each passing second. "I wonder what got me here in the first place?" Bob wondered aloud. He thought back briefly to where this had all started. "C'mon, Bob! I dare you!" "Yeah! We all dare you!" "Heck, I'll even double dare you!" "I double dog dare you." "Oooohh!!" True. It had been hard to pass up at the time, but thinking back upon it, a double dog dare didn't seem as bad now. "I'd even take a porcupine over this!" Bob yelled. Suddenly, a little wiggly nose popped out from beneath a crate. The nose was soon followed by a little spiny head. The head was soon followed by a little spiny body, followed by a little spiny tail. Bob stood staring at the porcupine for a minute. If he had been a cartoon character, his jaw would probably be bouncing along the floor, across the shattered splinters of boxes, over the flames, and out the door, probably to be trampled over by his 'friends.' "I said 'over this'!" Bob screamed. "What the" "am I gonna do with a" "porcupine?!" Bob felt something lightly bounce off of his head. "A beach ball." Bob glared down at the shiny, multi-colored atrocity. "Some one is having a good laugh, right now. I can practically here them." Then, Bob froze. He looked at the porcupine, with all its sharp, pointy bits. Then, he looked at the beach ball, with its thin surface. Bob unfroze, grabbed the porcupine, juggling it slightly, then kicked up the beach ball. The porcupine and the beach ball connected. Out side of the flaming shed, Bob's 'friends' were laughing uproariously. Several had fallen to the ground in a failed attempt to breathe. They listened as a string of expletives rose from the shed, leading them to a greater bout of laughing. And then, a large "Pop" emanated from the shed. Sudden silence consumed the group. "Uh, what was that?" one said. No sooner had he finished talking than they all saw the top of the shed burst off, releasing a Bob, a disgruntled porcupine, and a deflated beach ball. Bob watched their faces as he soared away. "Now, what? Huh? Yeah, dawg!" he yelled. "I'm gonna go to Arabia! Yeah! That's right! Ar-" Bob would have continued yelling trash talk, but he now found himself impeded by a downward trend in velocity that happened to take him into a tree. # Several hours later, Bob found himself in a hospital bed. He tried to move, but couldn't. He opened his eyes slowly. He saw several thick casts rising out of a larger cast that seemed to connect to his neck. A puzzling thought. "I didn't know you could do cast transplants," he said to himself. "Those aren't transplants, son. Those're your old limbs with a new skin." Bob turned to face a man in a white coat. "Hey, quack." Bob said. "No, no. Moo. I follow the way of the cow. Nurse Brody here," the man in the white coat indicated a lady to his side, "follows the way of the duck. You must have mixed us up." Bob sat and blinked. Granted, he couldn't do much else. A long silence began to progress. The man in the white coat raised his eyebrows. "You believed me, didn't you?" Bob broke out into laughter. "Wow, thank goodness! I thought you were ser-" "That's the first time anyone has ever believed me! Finally! Nurse! Set this young man up with a dental hygenist." "Yes, Doctor." "Hey, wait! Dental-" The door closed as the doctor and the nurse left. "Bloody doctors and dentists, anyways." "Bob," an eery voice quavered. "Bob." Bob turned his head slightly to see a giant pomegranate floating in front of himself. The pomegranate floated around so that Bob could relax. "I have come to bring you glad tidings of great joy." Bob tried to raise his eyebrows. "Today is the day you will be set free. Free, Bob, freeeeee!" Bob sat and stared. "If you mean free of the casts, forget it." The pomegranate deflated and sunk onto the covers of Bob's bed. "Aw, man! Come on!" the pomegranate pouted. "Everyone always wants to be free! What's so different about you." "Well, I-" "Yes, yes. I suppose it is." Bob looked at the pomegranate. He closed his eyes, then opened them again. Again, he saw the pomegranate. He screamed. Bob woke up. A doctor was hovering over him with a deadly looking needle. "Oops," the doctor attempted to hide the needle behind his back. "Hehheh." The doctor stood hunched over for a minute, looking sheepish. Then he straightened up. He cleared his throat. "Good to see that you're awake, young man! You gave us quite a fright with that scream of yours." "Yeah. I'm glad that it was all a dream, though." The doctor's eyebrows knit themselves together. "Dream, young man?" The pomegranate floated up shyly from under the bed. "P-p-pom-poma-" "I believe the word you are searching for is dental hygienist, young man." "The word I'm searching for will get censored! What the heck is a pomegranate doing in a hospital?" The doctor's eyebrows knit even deeper into each other. "Nevermind." The doctor brightened. And that's when the pomegranate began to bleed. It was a slow bleed at first, then it got steadily heavier and heavier, until it was no longer a room, but a great red sea. Bob stood up. He looked down at his arms and legs, saw his arms and legs. "Ahoy, me Bamboo! What be ye're problem?" Bob looked up slowly. What he saw before him was at first a pair of fuzzy black feet, then fuzzy black knees, then a white belly, with white paws, black muzzle, and wiggly black ears. "I'm Captain Blackfeet. What be ye're problem? Calculus, perchance?" The panda looked hopeful. "Uh-no. My problem is I'm seeing a talking panda." Blackfeet raised his eyebrows, then let out a rumbling laugh. "C'mere, me little bamboo. I'll show ye a talking panda." Blackfeet put his large black paws over Bob's shoulders and led him along the length of the ship until they were at the mast. "This is the Talking Panda, me Bamboo! The here ship! Ain't she a beauty?" Bob's eyebrows floated up until they seemed to no longer be attached to his face, but to float above his head. I am dreaming, Bob thought. Soon this will all be over. He looked at the panda. The panda looked at him. "Will ye, perchance, be me First Mate?" Blackfeet looked hopeful. It's a dream. I will wake up soon. "Sure, Blackfeet! I'll be your first mate!" Bob said. "Now, which side is port?" Blackfeet laughed out loud, he laughed so hard that his fuzzy belly began to shake. Finally, he stopped laughing. "This, me Bamboo, is port." The panda said, indicating with his paws. "And this-" the panda went on to describe the finer points of the ship, going on and on until Bob thought his head would explode. After many hours, Blackfeet stopped talking. "Wow," Bob said. "So, when do we loot people?" Blackfeet smiled. - See more at: http://ninjaobsessed.com/writings/amaportpor.shtml#sthash.mwX0RDrs.dpuf

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